"No. No, Dean, I said I didn't want your pity. It happened, I thought I was safe, I tried to get over it. But…now…" Cas stopped, turned, and kicked the wall. Hard.
Dean flinched. "Woah, Cas, stop. Please. Just…I'll tell Benny that you know who this guy is. From there, we should be able to catch him. A-and, two cases of arson, manslaughter at least, malicious intent, treats; we can lock this guy away for a while, and then you can keep workin' on getting' over it, yeah? I can help you, I want to help you."
Cas chuckled coldly, not looking back at Dean. "You don't get it, Dean. He found me. He found me, and hurt you. I…If I'd just stayed away, like I was going to, then…then Jessica would still be alive."
"Cas, this, none of this, is your fault. You're…you're gonna be fine."
"Stop telling me that! That's all I ever hear, Dean! From my friends, my brothers, it's always 'you'll be fine.´ When? It's been two years, and I can't even say his name without stuttering like a baby."
Dean was going to argue, going to yell that he was trying to help. But Castiel seemed to give up in front of him, kind of deflating. Suddenly, his brave, kind, strong boyfriend, was a struggling, brave, kind-despite-everything, stronger survivor. Who needed his help. Dean did see Castiel differently, but he was still Cas.
"Cas…I don't really know what to tell you, but I want to help you. Whatever you need, I'll be right there. And we can catch that piece of shit and we can get you help if you want it. It should have been given to you before." And yeah, he was the officer in charge of the case. But he'd never actually seen how bad the vic was; he'd been arrogant. He was so stoked to lock away Alistair, that he'd given the case over to someone else to deal with the aftermath. Something he'd never do now; following cases through until they were closed was something he'd learned was worth it. "I'm sorry I didn't help you before, Cas."
Castiel nodded. "You should be. But you got me out of there. Thank you for that. And I saved you, too. So, we're even."
"…That…that's not the reason you decided to date me, was it?"
Cas shook his head. "No. That…was because you're a good person, Dean Winchester. A…and…I know where to find Alistair."
"What?"
"He…He contacted me. Told me that…If I wanted to keep you safe, I should meet him. Tomorrow. At the airport. I don't know what he's planning, but—"
"Cas, please tell me you weren't thinking of going."
Cas snapped at him, "Or course not! I…I was going to…I…hadn't thought of a plan, yet."
Dean sighed. "OK. So, we tell the team. They apprehend Alistair, easy as, right?"
Cas didn't respond, but trudged towards the door. Dean followed him, and in five minutes, the police squad was planning how to catch Alistair.
Castiel left a few hours later. The squad had asked him every question under the sun, and he was visibly exhausted. However much they asked him about Castiel's relationship with Alistair, he avoided them all. Eventually, when he'd given up all the information he deemed useful about Alistair, he pulled Dean away.
"Can we go get lunch?"
"Sure, Cas, let's go."
They went to the Roadhouse.
"Hey, boys. Jo just called, told me everything she could. I'm so sorry." Ellen smiled reassuringly at them from her space behind the bar.
"Thanks, Ellen."
"I doubt Charlie's gonna want to go back to hers tonight, huh? Tell 'er all three a y'all can stay at mine. Since Jo moved out, I got an extra room. Safety in numbers, huh?"
"…Thanks, Ellen, but you don't have to do that. We can stay at Castiel's."
Castiel shook his head. "A-Actually, he knows where I live. He only broke into Charlie's to get to you, and then you weren't there, so he resorted to childish threats. H-He'll probably come to mine tonight."
"…Ellen, we'd love to take you up on that offer." Dean downed what was lift of his whiskey. This was a fucking mess.
Castiel awoke with a start, but couldn't immediately place what had startled him. After the initial panic, he took in his surroundings. The room was bare of all but the bed he was in, and even that was sparsely made. No clocks to tell him the time, no wardrobes or cabinets to hold possessions. There was no one in the room with him. He looked up towards the ceiling, and was struck by a heart-gripping, breath-stopping panic. Above him, on the bare ceiling was one solitary lightbulb, harboured by one dark blue lampshade.
Suddenly, he was back. Before, with him. He knew it was too good to be true. Meg, the prank war, Dean, it had all been one long dream. False. Intangible. A lie. But now he was awake, he was back there, with HIM. His heart stopped. Or maybe it went too fast to notice a beat. He couldn't breathe. His vision was clouded, but it was all too clear. Alistair. Oh, God, no. He tried to breathe, but could only manage a disgruntled, painful gasp for air. He heard someone in another room drop something, and footsteps, heavy and malicious, echoed around his mind. His hands moved to his arms, doing their best to scratch his skin from them frantically. His eyes were glued to that dark blue lampshade. The door flew open, and—
Dean. Dean was there, in front of him. His green eyes were boring into him. It…hadn't been a lie. Alistair wasn't here. But Castiel still couldn't breathe. His nails moved faster against his red-raw skin. Lights were too bright. Memories, instead of air, flooded his system, and he still wasn't breathing. Dean was saying something, grabbing his hands and forcing them away from his arms. He was moving, slowly, deliberately, and Cas knew what he was supposed to do. But he couldn't. His eyes slammed shut, and he tried to mimic the was Dean was moving. Eventually, air flooded his lungs. He opened his eyes, and his vision cleared.
"…C-cas? Buddy, you OK?"
Castiel sat up slowly, taking a moment before speaking. "Uhm…I can't really answer that honestly, Dean. I think you know the answer, anyway. Sorry for worrying you."
Dean sighed, a mix between relieved and agitated. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up. Ellen's making breakfast."
Cas nodded and allowed himself to be led to the bathroom, where Dean dabbed the scratches with antiseptic. Castiel didn't even flinch; he was busy thinking about other things.
"I promise you, Castiel, I swear, we'll get this guy. We'll help you."
Castiel nodded. "Of course, Dean."
"Hey. Let's go out, tonight. Just you an' me, we can go to the movies, or for food, anything you want. Yeah?"
Castiel shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dean. But Alistair has contacts. They know me. They could be there. I know it sounds stupid, but I don't want to risk it. It's paranoid, but…I can't…" He sighed heavily. "God, I'm a pain. I…No-one's forcing you to stick around, you know…"
"It doesn't sound stupid. I get it. And I'm sticking around 'cause I lo—really like you, Cas. None of this is your fault. I won't leave you because of him."
"…Thank you." Cas' reply was almost inaudible, but Dean heard it. He met Castiel's eyes and leant in slowly, letting Cas pull away of he wanted.
Cas closed the gap.
"Boys! Charlie! Get yer asses down here before yer eggs go cold!" Ellen yelled. Dean chuckled, before taking Cas' hand and leading him downstairs.
